Ordinary Day
by Kallie49
Summary: Sometimes there doesn't need to be a dramatic reason to make a long-overdue change. P/C fluff. Set just before "Nemesis."
1. Chapter 1

Story Notes: Originally published three or four years ago on the now very sadly defunct P/C Archive site, but I decided to dig it up after rewatching the show on Blu-ray. The story is set just prior to "Nemesis," and assumes Beverly is going to Starfleet Medical. "Insurrection" happened, but Anij did not. And I sort of compressed the timeline by assuming the movies happened closer together after the end of the series, so we're only two or three years after "Attached" instead of eight. Set of vignettes set over one day and post-movie.

* * *

_Morning_

She'd told him about the offer when Starfleet Medical first extended it four weeks ago, only shortly after Riker and Troi had announced they would be moving on to the _Titan_ following their wedding. He was happy for her, of course, and so out of consideration for the tremendous step it would represent for her, he carefully set aside the inexplicable ache that came over him at the thought of being separated from her.

She wasn't oblivious to his ambivalence, for she also felt it. But as close as their friendship was – as entwined as their lives were, and as much as they'd occasionally danced around the idea of taking their friendship even further – yet they were, after all, formally unattached to one another, and driven to excel and advance in their respective professional fields. The opportunity to head up Starfleet Medical for a second time, now that her son was grown and so independent that for some time he had no longer even resided in their same plane of existence, genuinely excited her.

And so he encouraged her to accept it. She seemed grateful for his support and submitted her acceptance to Medical, while he started reviewing applications for the now three openings among his senior staff. Their daily breakfasts and almost-as-often dinners continued uninterrupted, with an easy familiarity and affection that only seemed to increase. He didn't dwell on their upcoming separation and she didn't appear to either. Even their discussions about packing, planning, and future assignments were natural and untinged by melancholy. He began to feel that everything might be fine after all – until one morning, it wasn't.

Beverly Crusher brushed a few crumbs off her fingers and pushed back from the table to stand, leaning over to pick up his plate along with her own for recycling. "So, you're _sure_ you don't need any help with the toast?"

With a laugh, Jean-Luc Picard held up his hands. "No, I'm sure I can manage. Somehow I think our styles differ, in any case."

She smirked. "Maybe that's for the better. Will and Deanna would probably prefer I not have a hand in sharing any embarrassing anecdotes – not that they wouldn't have it coming."

"Don't worry, I won't let them off the hook entirely," he assured her. The plates clinked as she deposited them in the replicator.

"You'd better not," she warned, turning back to retrieve their coffee mugs as well.

"Thank you. I know who I'd be accountable to if I did." He stood to kiss her on the cheek goodbye as she moved past him around the end of the table. She accepted the affectionate action distractedly and kept moving to head out the door on her way to Sickbay. "Well, I'm sure you'll do fine, Jean-Luc, but I remain available for consults. See you later – thanks for breakfast."

He couldn't have said why, but something about the sight of her slender, black-clad figure sweeping out of his quarters suddenly gripped him with a feeling of loss out of all proportion to a simple end of a meal. "Beverly, wait."

She turned back from the open door, a minor question on her face.

Somewhat caught off guard by his own request, Picard found that he wasn't at all certain how he meant to proceed. And even if he did know, surely this wasn't the time? After a moment he shook his head with a rueful look. "Never mind."

Curious, she took a step back towards him. The door hissed shut behind her. "What is it, Jean-Luc?"

He hesitated again. He hadn't consciously intended to bring this up now, or even at all. Perhaps he could still choose to wave it off. But no - he found, as he met her clear blue eyes, that he didn't want to. There might be nothing particular about this day or this moment that made it significant ... except for the fact that it marked another day closer to the end of the morning ritual they'd observed for the better part of a decade, another day closer to the inevitable drifting apart that a separation of light-years would bring.

Resolution took hold of him and he decided to go all in. If he was going to lose her anyway, there was nothing more he could lose by telling her exactly what that loss would mean to him. "It's just that – I'm going to miss this terribly."

She swallowed. "This." _What is he doing?_ Her thoughts, which had already been halfway to Sickbay as she rushed to make the start of her shift, skidded back to where she stood, where the air now held a sudden charge. A part of her marvelled that even as careful as they always were to maintain a certain emotional distance from each other, the slightest breach of that distance could explode the whole pretense in an instant.

"This – breakfast. You. I'm going to miss you terribly."

Beverly thought she could have deflected him if he'd kept the comment contained to breakfasts, but his directness almost completely disarmed her. She kept very still as he closed now the physical distance between them, and the warmth in his expression was almost more than she could bear. She flashed an uncertain smile at him and made her best effort to steer them back towards familiar ground. "So will I ... It's hard to find good breakfast dates anymore."

Her attempt at lightheartedness failed spectacularly in the face of his quiet earnestness. Almost literally brushing aside her comment, he reached out and grasped her hands, sending a small shock through them both. "Beverly, as I trust you know, you are much more than that to me. That much I believe we both knew after our experience on Kesprytt."

Of course she did; the memories of his thoughts and dreams she'd been privy to through their mental link on the planet could still bring a flush to her cheeks even several years later. Yet even though she was only one who had voiced reservations at the time, it wasn't only she who had been afraid at the intensity of the revelations. "You weren't ready then either," she protested.

Picard shook his head in ready acknowledgement. "No." He'd initially felt stung by her turning him down, but in talking more after that night he had come to agree that caution and more time were prudent. He hadn't been ready for a public relationship, hadn't quite worked through that longstanding guilt, hadn't had enough time to process the intense experience – all of which, he knew now, was no longer true. "You're right. But in the time that has passed since then, my feelings for you have only grown, and I dare to presume that yours have as well. Beverly, perhaps we should revisit–"

"That's quite a presumption," she cut him off. But it was a bit too late to be an effective rebuke, and her hands, which had been cold, kept a tight grip on his. A breath caught in her throat and she swore at herself mentally as he let his hazel eyes bore into hers, keeping her honest. _No more deflections._ "All right," she conceded softly. "I'll admit that I have – often – felt the same way. You are my closest friend and I won't deny that there has always been the potential for us to be more than friends."

She paused and bit her lip, regarding the familiar lines of his face. Her voice stayed steady though the next words were difficult to say. But surely he would see the sense in them? "Jean-Luc, we have to be realistic. I think perhaps our moment has passed. Whether we might wish otherwise, we've both made decisions about our careers and about each other, and I am going back to Earth. Which you encouraged me to do."

Undeterred, he nodded and squeezed her hands. "I realize that. I should have said something sooner, and I regret not doing so. It has taken me far too long to come to the realization that I want nothing more than for us to have another chance ... to act on these feelings that both of us share."

The air of assured authority he wore comfortably as a starship captain and accomplished diplomat was now being directed full force at her, and in the already charged environment Beverly felt herself being drawn in by his voice, his body, his words. Yet a spark of frustration flared to life within her - how could he possibly think it was fair to be springing this on her now? She pulled her hands away from him, breaking their eye contact and shaking her head. "It's a little late for–" She stopped, tried again. "Jean-Luc, what would you have me do? You never asked me to stay."

He replied truthfully. "I didn't feel that I had the right to ask that of you."

"If it's what you wanted, then you should have said something."

"I had no reason to believe that was what _you_ wanted."

"You never gave me the chance to consider!" she snapped.

Picard exhaled. "No, and I believe now that was a mistake. One which," he pointed out patiently, "I am now trying to rectify."

A note of desperation crept into her voice as she turned away from him and braced herself against the dining table, staring down at its polished black surface. "How can you do this now, less than a week before we arrive at Earth?" Did he really mean for her to walk back her acceptance to Medical now, with all the plans and arrangements already in progress? The logistics were daunting. They had duties and obligations to others besides themselves and he knew it as well as she did. But if he was truly asking her to stay, how could she say no? The intimacy of their friendship, cultivated over so many years, was a rare gift that could never be replaced. And she did love him, of course she did, she'd just always been so careful to draw lines because of – what? Guilt? Fear? Habit? On a moment's reflection she felt that the former had melted away with time; they were far too comfortable together now to be afraid of sharing even more of their lives. The latter was no reason to be stubborn now; it was only that, as she'd told him, she assumed it was simply too late to revisit the years' worth of choices they had made. And yet...

She clenched her fists, feeling utterly at a loss. She'd thought that she had made her peace with moving on, but apparently she had only just managed to paper over the gaping hole that leaving him would open up in her life.

He moved to her side, raising one hand to touch her shoulder. "I know that it is," and he paused to search for the words, "tremendously unfair of me, Beverly."

"You're damned right it is." She threw him an accusing glance out of the corner of her eye, but he could sense that the heat was draining out of her words.

"That's why I didn't say anything in the first instance. I want you to continue to succeed and thrive in your career. I was, and remain, genuinely happy for this opportunity for you. But selfishly ... I also want you here." As he spoke he coaxed her to turn towards him and she slowly acquiesced to his gentle prompts, sliding her hands up his chest to rest at his lapel while his arms dropped to encircle her waist. He appreciated how well they fit together, how natural this physical closeness was. And yet they'd had far too few of these moments in their half a lifetime of attraction and friendship and intimacy. He wanted so much more. _Please stay._

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "Jean-Luc..."

"Beverly." The low intensity of his voice compelled her to look up. He brought a hand up to brush her light red hair, attractively layered to frame her face, back over her shoulder. "I know that it doesn't seem practical to change things now and we could each manage well enough apart. It's not impossible to imagine life without you ... It's only impossible to imagine that I could be happy with such a life."

All his cards were now laid out. Her eyes were suddenly bright and for a moment she stayed quiet, fingering his uniform collar. Her perception narrowed until she was finally aware of nothing but the sensations of him: the warmth of his lower body pressed against hers, the electric feel of his fingers in her hair, the enticing sight of his lips mere centimeters from hers. In the silence of several heartbeats, his hands continued to move at the small of her back and dance lightly around the back of her neck, and he revelled in this new license she was allowing him, hoping she would allow him more. To his surpassing relief, she did.

She closed the remaining distance between them with a kiss that was first soft and hesitant, but the touch was hardly enough to satisfy. Seeking more, she lifted her hands to his face and brought her lips to his again, this time with more confidence. Her lips parted to admit his tongue and as the kiss deepened she felt herself going weak in the knees at the sheer force of the love and desire she was finally giving him freedom to express. She had kissed him before, she thought, but never quite like this, and why in the galaxy she'd ever believed they shouldn't be together in this way was now completely beyond her. Good lord, she loved this man.

At last they pulled apart with small gasps, needing a moment just to breathe. His arms stayed wrapped tightly around her as he rested his forehead against hers. Taking a deep breath to clear her head, heart still pounding, Beverly finally managed to speak. "So. What do we do now? Just call Medical and announce I've changed my mind on a personal whim?"

Picard traced his fingers up and down her spine and thrilled at the shiver he felt pass through her. Emboldened by the passionate _yes_ she'd just given him, he felt a complete sense of peace in making the next leap. "Hardly a whim. If you think it would help, we could make things official."

"Oh?" She kissed him again, distracted. When she pulled back again, she could see joy reflecting in his eyes and she couldn't help but return his smile.

"Beverly, I have loved you for years. You are the better part of me. If you'll have me, I would share my life with you."

When his meaning made itself clear to her, she was overwhelmed. After everything all at once, it was a little fast to be moving to the proposal stage ... wasn't it? But how long did she need to think about it, really? She loved him, had loved him longer than she could remember, knew him better almost than she knew herself. A rush of images, impressions from so many different moments in her life, surfaced in her mind: from her Academy days, Wesley's childhood, and Jack's funeral; from Rutia, Wolf 359, Celtris III, and Kesprytt; from daily breakfasts, poker games, and plays - in all of these, Jean-Luc was there, and she couldn't imagine how her life would have been without him. In many ways he had even served as a surrogate father to her son, for which she could never adequately express her gratitude, and she loved him for that, too. Thirty years was long enough, indeed, to have provided enough of a basis to know with complete certainty that this man was who she belonged with and who would never fail to love her. There was no other way things could be. She pulled him back close and nodded into his shoulder with a whisper. "I will."

If it could have, he felt that his heart might have skipped a few beats. He felt a wave of happiness sweep over him and he thought again what a damned fool he had been to ever have thought he should let this beautiful woman get away from him. He very nearly had convinced himself to say nothing at all, holding a stubborn peace that had kept for almost thirty years, and yet now she was in his arms, promising him she would be in his life forever - he had done nothing to deserve it and felt only that he would do anything possible to convey to her the depth of his gratitude. Full of emotion, he sought her mouth once more.

As the heat grew in their embrace she began to think rather urgently about relocating to the couch – skip that, the bedroom – and getting them both out of these uniforms post haste ... Uniforms. _Damn._ She had all kinds of ways she would like to be marking this occasion, and none of them involved work, but her annoyingly practical inner voice popped up at this thought to remind her of their current circumstances. She moved her lips close to his ear. "Captain, we are terribly late for our shifts."

"Mmm." He was unperturbed. "I believe that we had important ship's business to attend to."

She gasped slightly at the things he was doing to her neck. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I had to fill the position of our ship's CMO."

"Oh, and is that the usual interview process?"

"No, interestingly, it doesn't usually involve agreeing to marry the commander."

She began to laugh and pulled back to regard his amused expression. "You know, I have quite a track record for marriage proposals now."

He harrumphed, a bit chagrined at the lack of ceremony. "It's not quite the way I would have planned it, had I actually planned it," he admitted, dropping his arms to her waist again and reluctantly putting a bit of space between them.

Fiddling with the front of his uniform collar to straighten it a bit, delighting in the feel of his arms around her, she glanced around his familiar quarters. The napkins left on the table were evidence of their already shared daily lives, and she smiled again at the rightness of the moment. "It's perfect for us, Jean-Luc."

He kissed her again and then took a deep breath and stepped back, trying without much success to turn his attention to the day's duties. "I, uh - suppose we should head to our stations. Staff meeting at 1100, and so forth." He felt another rush as he watched her rake her fingers through her slightly mussed hair, though there was little she could do to hide the rosy flush of her cheeks or the redness of her parted lips...

Composed now, completely aware of the effect she was having on him, she suppressed another laugh. "Probably so. Dinner tonight - my quarters?" she asked innocently.

He laughed at the mischievous look in her eyes that belied her tone. "I'll be there as soon as shift ends," he promised. Then, extending one hand: "Shall we?"

She nodded and squeezed his outstretched hand as they exited his quarters and headed for the turbolift together.


	2. Chapter 2

_Midday_

Beverly caught Jean-Luc's eyes as she entered the conference room. His impenetrable expression flickered for the briefest instant as he nodded a greeting at her, before settling back to perfect neutrality. She smiled inwardly. By unspoken agreement they had decided not to say anything at the staff meeting, the only time during the day they'd have to be in the same place with others around. As she was a mean poker player herself, she was fairly certain her expression gave no more away than his did. That didn't mean she wasn't thoroughly distracted, however, as the captain began the meeting and led them through the routine ship's business at hand prior to their arrival at Earth. She'd begun the day thinking about her upcoming transition to Starfleet Medical – finding a place to live near Headquarters, continuing the monumental task of getting up to speed on current research projects and administrative matters, and wrapping up responsibilities here in Sickbay – and now a few hours later, everything had been upended. She still couldn't believe the speed at which the whole morning had unfolded.

She had been genuinely upset at him for springing this on her so late in the process; she'd been planning her departure for weeks. She hadn't been unhappy with her life on the Enterprise or the job she'd held for nearly a decade, but she _had_ felt something was missing, such that when the new opportunity presented itself she convinced herself that maybe it was simply time for a change. She even believed it. But then again, hadn't she also been more than a little regretful that there was nothing formally to keep her here? Wesley was gone, Will and Deanna were leaving, and Jean-Luc ... well, she knew they'd miss each other, but for all the dancing around their relationship over the years, they had no formal claim on each other and she couldn't reasonably act as though they did. She'd been so stubbornly rational on this point, but then his unexpected words and actions this morning had broken through to free a longing she had barely even realized was there. _Yes_, she did want to stay ... with him. How could she have so completely underestimated the depth of her feelings for him? How could she have ever thought that she'd be fine without the anchor of his daily company, his unfailingly helpful counsel, his laugh at all her little jokes? It felt so natural a conclusion they should remain together that she was amazed they had ever thought otherwise.

No doubt it was going to be a somewhat uncomfortable conversation with the admirals, but Jean-Luc had been right, they were much more likely to approve the request with an announcement of an upcoming marriage. She knew it would hardly be sufficient to attempt to rescind her acceptance based on unspecified reasons that, if pressed, would essentially amount to "desire to pursue a romantic relationship." But this way, even if they required her to follow through and put in six months or a year, she felt reasonably certain they would allow her to keep or regain her post here – particularly if the captain was the one requesting the assignment. They could hardly deny her as being unqualified. Further, she was well acquainted with several other of the finalists the Medical search committee had considered and knew a few of them would still be interested in the position, so she could easily recommend and help procure a replacement for herself. Maybe Lu Chen at the Marian Clinical Research Institute on Luna in particular, she mused. She'd have to go back to the list again after this meeting. And then at the end of the day...

Still maintaining a pleasantly interested look, her thoughts drifted inevitably back to Jean-Luc. The feel of his arms around her was definitely something she could get used to, she decided, watching him at the head of the table, remembering the way his hands had run through her hair and pressed at the small of her back. Her pulse quickened as she dropped her eyes to his lips, all senses tingling at the thought of kissing them again...

A few moments later she noticed Deanna Troi glance in her direction with widened eyes, and she hastily reined in her wandering thoughts. Of course, she remonstrated herself, even the best poker face had been unlikely to fool Deanna without accompanying mental discipline.

It _had_ been a good effort, though. Deanna had immediately sensed the deep contentment emanating from the captain upon his entering the conference room. He had been relatively happy overall recently, and although she remained a bit concerned about the effect of his friends' upcoming departures from the ship, she had been confident that he was doing quite well, all things considered. Now, though, while she knew no one else would have noticed, his sense of peace had actually been strong enough to lift her own mood and bring a spontaneous, if somewhat puzzled, smile to her lips. Something must have happened, but what? The answer wasn't readily apparent to her.

It wasn't until her friend's thoughts took a decidedly unprofessional tilt that Deanna finally noticed that the captain's contentedness was matched by an equally buoyant mood from the redheaded doctor. _Oh my stars_, she thought, amused and now extremely interested to hear any and all details that she could get on what had caused this shift in both of them – absolutely no hint of which was in evidence from either of their outward demeanors. She raised her eyebrows at her friend in an effort to get some indication of what was going on, but met only studiously innocuous looks in reply. She shook her head with a slight smile and turned her focus back to the meeting, but resolved not to let Beverly get away with things quite that easily.

The captain wound things up with a note that Commander Worf would be joining them at their last stop prior to Earth so as to attend the wedding. "Which I know we are all looking forward to," he concluded, with a warm glance at Riker and Troi in turn. "Dismissed."

As everyone filed out of the room, Deanna made a beeline to intercept the doctor at the door. "Beverly!" she hissed, with a conspiratorial look flashing in her dark eyes. "Something happened. Out with it."

Beverly had no hope of coming up with a plausible denial or deflection, so she fell back on the tried-and-true method of running away. "Sorry, Deanna – I've got to run for appointments in my office. We'll have to talk later." She excused herself as gracefully as she could with a bright, innocent look.

The counselor was having none of it, but finally relented, letting her get away with a knowing grin and brief, "Bet on it."

Across the room, Beverly noticed Jean-Luc suppress a smile at her predicament as he exited at the far door. _Hmph. You'll have to deal with her the rest of the day_, she thought at him in reply. She slipped out of the observation lounge and resumed her mental countdown to the end of the day.


	3. Chapter 3

_Evening_

Eager to see her again, Picard debated going directly to her quarters upon completing his shift, but he'd already been informal enough today. She deserved to have him show a bit more care with dinner. He changed into tan slacks and a loose-fitting, forest green v-necked shirt that he knew she liked, and selected a bottle of rosé from Provence from an assortment that his sister-in-law had gifted him on his last visit to Earth.

Now more suitably attired, he headed down the corridor. It struck him that – unless she changed her mind, which he didn't want to contemplate – soon enough he wouldn't have to travel even this short distance in order to see her after hours. How many times at the end of an evening had he wished that she would stay the night with him or invite him to stay with her, that they would wake up together in the morning to share breakfast? And yet every time, he would instead kiss her chastely good night and tamp down firmly on those desires that, he'd felt certain, could never possibly be realized except in his dreams. The idea that she would finally stay with him now was incredible – humbling – overwhelming. He'd had to fight all day to keep thoughts of her – the feel of her soft skin and hair, the little smirk she gave him whenever she was teasing him, the love and trust in her eyes before she'd kissed him this morning – from driving him to utter distraction. He was amazed he had made it through the staff meeting, much less the subsequent hours.

He was a confident man by nature, but he found, despite all of the risks he'd taken today that had already been rewarded beyond any hope or expectation, that he was somewhat anxious as he pressed her door chime. If she'd had second thoughts after this morning, which he had to admit would be far more rational than his proposal had been, he would understand … but he didn't think he could possibly bear it.

He found her setting out utensils at her dining table, in a bit of a hurry to complete everything before his arrival. She had had time to change, though, into a light blue drape-neck top with a hint of shimmer to it and flattering dark colored pants. His eyes lingered on the curves that her outfit revealed, and he had to collect his thoughts again as she stepped around to the door.

"Jean-Luc, come in." She started to greet him with their customary kiss on the cheek, before making a quick correction to touch his lips. Her smile contained a hint of apprehension. "Sorry."

"Not at all," he assured her, relieved at her gesture. "I've been having to adjust my thinking all day. It's, ah – somewhat hard to believe. Wonderful," he clarified, "just hard to believe."

Her expression was now suffused with warmth and she gave him another kiss. "Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one." She accepted the wine bottle from him and inspected the label before handing it back to him to uncork. "Thank you. This should go perfectly."

He surveyed the place settings as he filled their glasses, approving of her choice of meal. Small plates of Mediterranean greens topped with tuna, olives, and vinegar dressing were set out next to a bread basket filled with demi-baguettes and two bowls of steaming whitefish and vegetable soup. "I haven't eaten much today, but I wasn't sure how much of an appetite for heavier fare or red wine we might have."

"Yes, I thought something light might be best," she agreed. He caught another twinge of nervousness again as she met his eyes, but he smiled reassuringly and reached out to squeeze her hand. The physical connection broke any remaining awkwardness and they shared a small laugh at the circumstances.

"It looks excellent," he said sincerely, threading their fingers. "And if I might add, Beverly, you look lovely."

She actually blushed a bit and then motioned for them to take their seats. "Well, thanks. I wanted to dress a bit nicer, but I didn't have time and I wasn't completely sure what was appropriate for the occasion. I haven't been in this situation much before."

"Having far more experience in such matters," Picard said gravely, eliciting the desired laugh from her, "I believe you've chosen perfectly."

They quickly settled into a natural rhythm of conversation that put them both at ease, and he felt profoundly grateful all over again that she would not be leaving him after all. He liked to think he was accustomed to being alone, but in truth he was accustomed to being around her. Her lively chatter at breakfasts, pleasant conversations at dinners, reliable counsel throughout the days – he so depended on her and derived so much pleasure from her company that he marvelled again that he'd ever thought he could be well with her absent from his life.

Another laugh brought him out of a momentary reverie. "So I had to run away," she was concluding.  
Ah, yes, the staff meeting. "I did see that you escaped very quickly afterwards," he said in amusement, breaking off a piece of bread for himself.

"Yes, thanks for not coming to my rescue," she said in mock accusation. "Very gallant of you, Jean-Luc. Did you see the look in Deanna's eyes? If I didn't get away at that moment, we'd have been done for."

He chuckled. "I had to spend most of the day in my ready room," he admitted. "But I did wonder how she knew so quickly?"

Beverly made a guilty wave of her hand to claim responsibility. "Well, I gave myself away at the meeting."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really, I thought you were quite good at appearing normal."

She took another swallow of her wine and he caught a mischievous flash in her eyes. "Maybe I looked that way ... but what I was _thinking_..."

"Oh?" He leaned in, attentive, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout him. She had always been able to captivate him even without trying – but she was definitely trying now. "And what were you thinking about, Doctor?"

Her lips curved upwards as she set the glass back down. "I thought I would wait until after dinner to show you, _Captain_."

"Indeed." Before, her gentle teasing would only have discomfited him, but now it brought a broad smile to his face: for the first time, he felt truly free to match her. He let his eyes drift down for a moment to the expanse of skin revealed by the soft drape of her top. "Well, I am just about finished with my meal, Beverly. I don't know about you?"

The smooth, suggestive tone of his voice made her breath catch in her throat, and she suddenly felt guilty for all the times she had teased him without allowing him to respond in kind. If he felt anything like she did now, she knew it had been terribly unfair of her. But given the circumstances, she decided she could make it up to him later. She touched a napkin to the corner of her lips, holding his frankly appreciative gaze. "How lovely, so am I."

"Then perhaps we should retire." He filled their wine glasses again as she busied herself gathering up their dishes to put in the recycler before heading over to take a seat on her couch. As she accepted her glass from him, he thought about the countless number of times they'd performed the same action after an evening repast, with him taking a seat across from her or on the same couch but at an appropriate remove. This time, by contrast, he settled next to her and she leaned into him with a contented sigh. _Much better_, he affirmed silently. He met her blue eyes, the ones he had fallen in love with so many years before, and the openness he saw there combined with the feel of her warmth against him caused a fresh wave of desire to stir in him. He had learned to live with that desire suppressed for so long – had been prepared to live with it the rest of his life – that he could scarcely believe the strength of his own feelings rising to the surface now. Though he'd told her how he felt, he had only begun to express the depth of his love for her this morning, and his arms were starting to ache with a need to fully embrace her again.

Comfortably ensconced under his left arm, she raised her glass. "To new beginnings," she said softly.

"New beginnings," he echoed, touching his glass to hers. But after a single sip he was setting the glass on the coffee table and bringing his hand back to touch her face, heart starting to pound in his chest. "Beverly," he breathed.

Her lips parted and he saw the rising color in her cheeks. Without looking away she reached out to place her glass aside as well. She trembled as his thumb lightly stroked her cheekbone and he drew inexorably closer, and then his mouth covered hers.

Her skin was on fire everywhere his hands made contact. She tugged his shirt out of his waistband, fumbling a bit in the effort to touch him as much as she could, and he gasped at the feel of her hands sliding up his back in a mirror of his own actions. Deepening their kiss, she felt him easing her down on the couch beneath him, his hands urging, pulling her closer. The wonderful pressure of him caused a moan to escape as she instinctively moved in response to every caress.

Wanting to remove them to her room, she started to sit up a bit, tugging him with her. "Jean-Luc." Her voice was soft, urgent. She met his hazel eyes, darkened with love and desire for her, and felt a desperate need gathering low in her belly. Then, almost involuntarily, the words spilled out in a rush: "I don't know why I was ever afraid of this."

Picard kissed her again, first on the lips and then tracing a line down her neck, trying to convey with his actions his understanding of everything her confession carried in it: they both knew all too well the complex nature of the attraction, guilt, sense of honor, caution, fear, and love that had by turns marked their relationship over these many years. But the warm timbre of his voice was as infinitely reassuring as his steady gaze when he pulled back to regard her again. "We can't change the decisions that kept us apart until now. We can only appreciate that all of them have led us to this time. Beverly, you are my best friend and I am ... in love with you."

Relief flooded her and she blinked away tears. He did understand; he always had. "I love you," she whispered in reply, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion at finally saying the words out loud. She pulled them both to their feet and then, arms wrapped around his neck, never breaking contact, guided them carefully back towards her bedroom. She did love him, with an ardent strength that had only grown steadily over the many years of their friendship, and now she would be free to love him in a new way: completely, with a promise of forever.


	4. Chapter 4

_Night_

Hours later she awoke to him lightly running his fingers up and down her arm. The touch raised goosebumps on her cool flesh, contrasting with the perfect warmth from every other place they were touching under the light covers. She murmured in absolute contentment, enjoying this new and wonderful feeling of being completely molded to his body, and idly traced circles on his chest as she lay beside him.

He cleared his throat softly and she became aware that something was preoccupying him. She peered up at his familiar profile, bathed in shadows. "What is it, Jean-Luc?" she asked gently.

He shifted a bit, taking a breath and turning towards her to face her directly, though he stayed pressed against her. "Beverly, I … I want you to know that I fully realize the significance of what I have asked you to give up to remain here. I cannot adequately express..."

Her eyes unaccountably filled with tears. She reached up in the darkness to run her hand over his smooth head and stroke the back of his neck. "It's all right, Jean-Luc."

"I hope to make you happy enough that you will never regret it."

"I'd say you've made a pretty good start on it." Her light tone was belied by the small lump in her throat. Then more seriously, wanting him to be truly at peace: "Jean-Luc, I wouldn't stay with you if I didn't love you. I will never regret making the choice to be with you."

He was silent for a long time but she knew he was reassured now, as he kissed her forehead in wordless thanks and returned to rest on his back with a relaxed sigh. Slowly she widened the area she was exploring on his chest, dropping her fingers downward just a bit, feeling herself drifting back to sleep in the quiet but unable to still her hands. Eventually he spoke again in response to her touches, his low voice rousing her from the edge of sleep. "You realize it's not going to be easy for me to get out of this bed in the morning."

"Fortunately, you don't have to," she murmured, snuggling closer to him.

"Beverly, I wish that were so, but a captain can't simply not show up for duty," he admonished gently.

She would have rolled her eyes if they weren't still closed. _Proper even in bed in the middle of the night._ She did love that sense of duty and responsibility, but sometimes he needed to remember that command brought some privileges. She, on the other hand, wasn't above pulling her own rank when called for…. "No, I mean you don't have to. I had Will rearrange the shift schedules so our off days are today instead of tomorrow."

"You..." He looked down at the barely illuminated mess of red hair resting comfortably on his chest. "But I thought – we hadn't told anyone. And how did you know for certain I'd be here?"

She opened her eyes and lifted her head to regard him a bit smugly. "I told you I had plans for the evening, Jean-Luc," she reminded him. "And once Deanna knew something was up, I figured Will would know soon anyway. Don't worry, he'll keep it to himself ... I think."

He paused and she perceived, in the darkness, a broad smile overtake his face. "Beverly, you do amaze me sometimes."

"You'd just better take advantage of the time I've gotten for us," she teased him, suddenly feeling more awake.

"Oh, believe me, I intend to." He shifted her up to capture her mouth with his and she soon found herself swept away again.


	5. Chapter 5

_Epilogue_

When the call came in from planetside, Picard immediately took it in his ready room, very glad to hear from her after she'd been essentially out of contact for a few days. The sight of her never failed to lift his spirits and for the first few minutes of conversation he just enjoyed seeing her lively blue eyes, attractive hairstyle, and warm smile on his computer screen. Soon he found himself thoroughly amused, as well, as she waxed dramatic on the group of residents she'd apparently been saddled with. "They're kids, Jean-Luc! All of them with advanced degrees in xenobiology and ready to conquer every disease in the quadrant."

He chuckled at her animated expression. "Reminds me of a young doctor I used to know," he pointed out.

She waved him off. "Yes, well, they're running me ragged. Nothing but questions, day and night. I actually like it a lot," she allowed with a smile, "but I'll be happy to turn the job over to someone else and get home to you."

He suspected he was looking forward to her return even more than she was. Their recent encounter with Shinzon, the reason his battered ship was currently sitting in drydock in orbit around Earth, had only proven again how utterly he relied on Beverly, not least for her technical expertise and professional competency, but even more so her friendship and love. Then Data's death, a fresh reminder of the uncertainty and danger of their chosen careers, had struck them all with profound grief and left the two of them, in particular, with a renewed desire not to waste any more time than they already had in sharing their lives. Unfortunately, while Starfleet would allow her to resume her post on the _Enterprise_, Command had required her to proceed with the transfer to Earth until her replacement at Medical could be identified and brought up to speed, a period she thought was likely to last a few months. Though disappointed, they each realized it was about the best resolution they could reasonably have hoped for, so Beverly had decided to throw herself into the new role until they could be together again, for good.

"In the meantime, I should be able to get out a bit tonight. There's a Bajoran band at the officers' mess – want to join me for dinner?"

"Yes, I would love to, but the work is piling up here." He hesitated and mentally assessed the list of items requiring his attention. "Perhaps I can get away for a short while after dinner, if I can get a few reports finished before then?"

"Sure. I'll save the last dance for you." Her eyes sparkled.

"I should hope so," he replied in mock affront. "I don't need some junior officer in a bar stealing dances with my future wife."

She leaned in and lowered her voice. "Confidentially, Jean-Luc, I don't think you have anything to worry about. See you then. I love you."

"I love you too, Beverly." She ended the connection and her smiling face was replaced by the familiar blue Starfleet logo. He took a sip of his tea and turned his attention to the reports on his desk, but his smile lingered at the thoughts of her and the promise of starting the next stage of their lives as one.


End file.
